


Please, Let Me Go

by aiIenzo



Category: Alice Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiIenzo/pseuds/aiIenzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I heard Nao-san saying I'm suffering from something, something psychological," he looked up. "Do you think that's true?" [Part 2/5 of Torture/Phobia series]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please, Let Me Go

"Hiroto-san," Tora said, opening his door to reveal the guitarist staring solemnly back at him. His voice was as surprised as he felt, and it belied none of his unease. "How are you?"

Hiroto shrugged nonchalantly. "I could be better. Do you think I could come in?"

Tora nodded and immediately stepped aside to allow Hiroto entrance; the guitarist shuffled inside, keeping his hands crossed in front of him. Tora turned and opened his mouth to offer Hiroto something to drink, but the look on his friends eyes stopped his voice before it had even left his mouth. Hiroto hadn't been doing any better. His eyes were completely encased by a dreary, hopeless sort of longing. Dead orbs not even strong enough to twinkle an apology of lost faith. Tragedy wrapped in a quiet rage, a sense of loss engulfing his entire gaze. 

"Hiroto…"

Tora reached out to pull him into a hug, but Hiroto immediately began talking, like he had been holding his words in for longer than he wanted to. 

"Have you spoken to Shou today? He hasn't been answering his phone, and I think that--"

Tora shut his eyes, turning away. A soft sigh escaped his lips. 

"--I think that maybe I've upset him. Made him mad. Oh, I hope I haven't upset him."

"Hiroto. We've been through this--" Tora began, his voice strained as he fingered the end of his shirt nervously. 

"--Maybe he's just misplaced his phone. I talk to him all the time, and he never seemed angry--"

"Pon, listen to me," Tora said, and Hiroto stopped, turning tired eyes onto his friend. "You've told me this before. You came here and told me this exact same thing a week ago. Shou isn't mad, Hiroto. He's never been mad at you."

Tears were welling up in Hiroto's eyes, but they weren't focused on Tora anymore. He was lost; lost in some memory of Shou, some perfect moment that had lodged itself into his brain and refused to let go. 

"Shou would never have intentionally done anything to hurt you, Hiroto. You need to move past this…" Tora whispered softly, rubbing Hiroto's shoulders gently, thought he doubted the boy in front of him even heard a word. He stood up straight again, putting on a smile and placing a careful hand underneath Hiroto's chin. "Hey, why don't you come over tonight, huh? We'll watch some movies, maybe. It'll be fun. You can bring over Tekken."

Hiroto brought his face up to look at Tora. "You… you wouldn't mind?"

Tora smiled. "Not at all. Go home, get your stuff, and come back here tonight, okay?"

Hiroto nodded, sniffling slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Tora watched him go, his heart sinking at the sight of him, so broken, so hurt. He stayed in his position until he heard Hiroto's car crunching down the gravel incline, and only then did he pull his phone out of his pocket, where it had been vibrating against his leg, barely noticeable. He flipped over the cover, took a quick look at the ID, then called back; it was picked up immediately. 

_"You didn't answer, is everything all right?"_

Tora didn't respond for a moment. Had things truly gotten that bad? Did they rely on each other so much now that even a missed call was a sign to panic?

"No, no, everything's fine. Hiroto came to visit."

A pause. Tora bit his lip. He heard a soft sigh over the phone. 

_"What did he say this time?"_

"That Shou hasn't been answering his phone."

 _"Didn't he tell you that last Thursday?"_ Nao sighed again. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately when they spoke of Hiroto or Shou. _"What did you tell him?"_

"That…" Tora swallowed. He knew what he was going to say wouldn't make Nao happy, but lying to him felt wrong. Anything deceptive felt so wrong now. "I told him that Shou was never angry with him."

_"Tora! You need to be more forceful! He needs to understand that--"_

"I know, Nao! I know! Okay? I get it. It bothers you as much as it bothers me. He just…he believes so much that Shou is going to--"

_"Well he's not. Shou isn't going to do anything, Tora. We can't keep letting Hiroto live like this. I feel like a bad person every time I have to tell him, and he breaks down into tears. And I'm the only one with enough guts to keep driving it into his head. How do you think that makes me feel?"_

"I'm sorry, Nao," Tora whispered. "I'll talk to him tonight."

 _"We all will,"_ Nao answered. _"I'll tell Saga. This has been going on long enough, and we've dealt with enough pain."_

Tora swallowed and ended the call. His throat felt dry, scratched, parched. And swimming in his mind was the image of Hiroto, just as he used to be, bouncing around the dressing room, flinging different articles of clothing at them, singing too loudly, snuggling against Shou. 

Tora shut his eyes, willing away the tears and the memories, but they fought their way in nonetheless, infesting his mind like a plague. 

Hiroto pressing a soft kiss against the side of Shou's face, lingering just a little too long; Shou wrapping his arms around their Pon's small waist, whispering calm words against the skin of his neck. Tora could remember Hiroto shifting against his side when they would sleep together, and he'd turn his head in time to witness the guitarist curling himself against Shou's back, he watched as Shou's hand would intertwine around Hiroto's, a silent sign that it was okay. 

Tora fell against the wall, his face in his hand as he sobbed dryly. He would give anything to see Hiroto that happy again, but that prospect was as lost as the endless tears he had cried. He could barely manage to mourn anymore. His throat was now as dry as the skin on his face where the tears simply would not shed anymore. 

 

\---

 

Hiroto drove with a practiced caution. His route home was bored into his mind, and his concentration was allowed to waver as he made his way slowly back to his own house, his sight glued to the road in front of him but his eyes unseeing. 

Shou's absence was beginning to scare him. Not a single call, a note, nothing, and yet he was gone. He never did this to him. Ever. But more and more frequently, it seemed, he was leaving their home without a trace.

He pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine, the lack of sound somehow seeming to silence not only his car, but all noises around him. His mind was buzzing in his head, telling him he was a fool, but he pushed it aside. He had managed to push a lot aside recently, an unconscious side effect of this ongoing trauma he experienced day after day. 

His front door was unlocked, something he didn't remember doing, and it was with caution when he put down his keys on the table and peered around the wall into the kitchen. Deserted. The entire house was eerily calm, like it was trying to cover up a sin with serene perfection, and it made Hiroto's skin prickle with the anticipation of something that had yet to happen. Everything was in it's proper place except the newspaper he had left on the couch, which was unfolded and scattered across the cushions. 

He stepped over and began picking up the pieces, folding them gently together like he had left them and setting them in a small pile. But as he reached the last few remains, something caught his attention. A long tear had completely severed one paper, and as hard as he scanned the pile, he couldn't locate the missing page. Just as he was scanning the rip, his heart beating faster with uncertainty, a touch on his shoulder made him jump up and step backwards. 

A hand quickly came to his chest to calm his breathing as he saw the face in front of him. 

"Shou-kun. You scared me."

Shou smiled gently, bending down to pull the remaining piles of paper together. "Don't be so jumpy, Pon," he chuckled. "People will start thinking you're paranoid."

"They already do," Hiroto muttered back darkly, watching as Shou placed the paper on the table. "I heard Nao-san saying I'm suffering from something, something psychological," he looked up. "Do you think that's true?"

Shou shook his head and collapsed on the couch. "Don't mind what Nao says. He doesn't understand."

Hiroto nodded, unquestioning, and sat down beside Shou. There was a moment of silence before Hiroto decided to voice his recent concerns, and bit his lip hesitantly. "You were gone when I woke up."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, baby."

There was another pause before Hiroto added, in merely a whisper, "You're always gone when I wake up." He didn't dare move. "And you never answer your phone anymore. Never."

Shou turned to gaze at him, a piercing stare that, although held nothing but endearment, sent shivers down Hiroto's spine. 

"Don't you trust me anymore, Pon?"

"Of course I do, I just… it's hard, Shou. I miss you," he paused, letting the realization of those words sink in. "Sometimes, when I open my eyes, it feels like you were never there at all."

Shou let out a breath of sympathetic laughter and touched Hiroto's cheek softly -- so softly, barely a caress -- and whispered, "Maybe you are paranoid, Hiroto-kun."

Hiroto swatted his hand and turned away. "Don't say that please. It worries me."

"Hiroto," Shou replied sternly, turning to face him on the couch. "Hiroto, look at me."

Hiroto did, trying to hide his eyes, which were holding back tears he didn't understand.

"Hiroto, I'm always here, okay? I was with you last night. I heard you whisper that you loved me. I could see your chest rising from every breath you took. I stayed awake just to watch you breathe, to see you look so peaceful, so content, just like you always have."

Hiroto shut his eyes, which leaked small tears at the sound of Shou's beautiful voice. If Hiroto could never hear anything again but the sound of his voice, he would die happily. He would die in Shou's arms with the words spilling from that mouth as delicately as the vocalist would hold him, whispering promises against his skin. That they'd be together forever. In life and in death, they would never let go. 

"If I were to die," Hiroto swallowed after a small, thoughtful silence, "Would you forget about me?"

And just as if Shou had read his mind, he smiled softly and said, "Never, baby. Nothing would ever keep me from you. You have my heart, you have my soul. I would do anything to keep you happy, no matter the cost. I love you."

And with those final words, he leant forward and kissed the tears from Hiroto's face, drying them instantly. "Now close your eyes," he whispered, "and sleep."

Hiroto did as he was told and shut his eyes, letting the darkness consume him. The last thing he felt before he drifted off to sleep was Shou's kiss, lingering on his lips like the ghost of a touch. 

And when he woke up mere hours later, Shou was gone once again, and the only movement that remained in the room was the breeze that drifted in from the far window, hitting Hiroto's face so gently he could swear he mistook it for something else. 

 

\---

 

"Hiroto-kun, come in," Tora said with a smile, opening the door and gesturing him inside. Hiroto gave him a tired smile as he walked past, quickly accepting the drink Tora offered him. 

"I'm sorry I'm a little late," he started, walking into the main room, "Shou was--"

But he stopped mid-sentence, his gaze settled on the middle of the room, where Saga and Nao sat together, clearing waiting for him to come into the room. Saga smiled apprehensively at him, that thick sadness still covering his eyes, but Hiroto was too surprised to smile back, especially when Nao was fixing him with the concerned, hopeless gaze he always managed to reply with when Hiroto mentioned Shou. 

"Nao, Saga-kun, I didn't… I didn't expect you to be here," he said, trying to be polite. He wasn't sure why their appearance had taken him by surprise like this, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He had been distancing himself lately, without really noticing it. His phone was filled with missed calls and unnoticed voicemails, but he had hardly realized it, being so caught up in Shou's sudden disappearances. 

He spoke to Tora the most out of them, though, simply because the guitarist was so kind and never mentioned Shou. Nao, however, had been acting strange the past few weeks. His demeanor had turned cold, almost forceful, and every time he spoke, Hiroto had taken to blocking out the words. They meant nothing to him. Nao was speaking nonsense, constantly telling him that he needed to get over Shou, and trying to explain the weird way he had been acting. It was driving Hiroto mad. 

"Hiroto," Tora spoke softly, placing his hand on Hiroto's shoulder, "We need to talk. Together."

Hiroto quickly turned around, holding his arms close to his chest. "Tora, why--?"

"Hiroto, please," Nao cut in, casting a quick glance around at the others. "All we want is to help. It hurts us to see you like this."

"To see me like _what?_ " Hiroto asked, bewildered. "I'm just worried about Shou, that's all. He's just been acting strange. There's nothing _wrong_ ," he added, placing emphasis on the last words.

"Hiroto, please, listen--"

"No, _you_ listen, Nao!" Hiroto shouted back suddenly, taking even himself by surprise. "I'm sick of you being so damn depressing with your talk of how he's "never going to come back." Every time I tell you he's gone, that's always your answer, and I don't think I can handle it anymore--"

"Because he's _not_ coming back, Hiroto!" Nao responded, but his voice wasn't raised in anger, but in desperation. He was earnest. Tora flinched behind him and Saga quickly shut his eyes. Hiroto growled and felt the tears in his eyes, but he couldn't remember what caused them. 

"You keep _saying_ that! Stop it, Nao! Stop saying it! He's coming back. He always comes back!"

"Shou is _dead_ , Hiroto!"

Saga broke. He turned away as tears spilled over onto his face, trying to hide them though his body is clearly shaking. 

Hiroto blinked. "You…what?"

"He's dead, Pon. Three weeks ago, we… we went to his funeral. You stayed by his tombstone for hours. You… fell asleep, and I had to take you home. Don't you remember?" Nao said, his own eyes watering as he bit his lip, a quiet effort to keep his sobs inside of him. Hiroto felt Tora's hand on his shoulder still, adding a light pressure. Even Tora believed this. 

"No, he -- you guys, that's not… I just _spoke_ with him. Not… not three hours ago. He told me he loved me. He's…no. He was right _there_."

Hiroto's world was slipping. The ground seemed so very close, and his friends seemed so very far away. Shou _had_ been there. He had felt the soft touches on his face, the whispered words of endearment. The promise. The promise of together, forever. 

"Hiroto…"

Tora was holding something out for him. With bleary eyes, Hiroto looked down and took the paper from him, his hands shaking as he read the headline. And there, underneath the words of loss, was Shou's picture, smiling and staring back at him, a black and white grin that faded in and out of his vision. 

"No," he murmured as his eyes trailed down to the second picture, in which lines of people were giving their last farewells. "No, I…"

Nao took a step forward and cradled Hiroto's hand gently in his own. "You need to let go of him, Hiroto. There's nothing for you to live like this. He's gone, and nothing can bring him back."

Hiroto could barely register that Nao's touch felt far warmer than Shou's had in a very long time. In fact, he seemed to be feeling the sensation of skin on skin for the first time all over again. 

"There's nothing for me to live like this?" Hiroto repeated, swallowing thickly, as his voice was most unlike his own. He thought about Shou, climbing into bed with him last night. Kissing his face only hours ago. How happy had he felt? How would anything make him feel like Shou had?

"You need to let him go," Nao said finally, a whisper of a words that seemed so loud, compared to how Shou spoke to him now. 

Tears fell against the newspaper, and Hiroto watched as the stained letters and words began to run together, a mess and jumble of ink that smeared across Shou's happy face. But it didn't matter. That face was forever printed into his memory. 

"I did let him go," Hiroto responded finally, pulling his hand out of Nao's warm comfort to release himself back to the cold breeze he had grown so accustomed to. "He just won't do the same for me."


End file.
